


Young Lioness, Love.

by orphan_account



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Abuse, Age Difference, Angst, BDSM, Bottom Kim Jongdae | Chen, Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Lu Han, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Slow Burn, Smut, Top Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Trauma, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 00:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18649528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Minseok is a hypersexual business man who has been suffering from PTSD ever since the brutal murder of his ex-boyfriend. Jongdae is just a miserable college dropout selling his body for money to entertain his drug addiction.At first, the feelings between them are purely professional in the worst sense of that word, however, when the older notices the way Jongdae is holding his cigarette and the lost shimmer of his hazel eyes, his image distorts into the pure reincarnation of the dead lover. In that moment, Minseok understands that his purpose is keeping the boy alive at any cost.





	1. Loverboy, Forget About It All.

It's chilly ㅡ common March weather. The sky is cloudless and you can see the stars clearly, even some constelations, which is peculiar for a crowded city ㅡ Minseok notices his sign's constellation : Aries. It's the only one he knows anyways.

 

He chose to walk home tonight after a stressful day at the office ㅡ typical. 'The monotony never stops.' he would claim with a smile upon his face. Frankly, he doesn't mind it that much. At least, it is a safe ground, an anchor to reality keeping his mind preoccupied so he wouldn't think about the past. It works most of the times. Of course, you can't always escape your mind.

 

Kim Minseok is a 31 year old fairly successful business man and has just recently finished his military duty. His life is a constant of sleeping, working, drinking and having sex. 'The basics of the human life' he says. Other things don't matter, ultimately... not anymore. Not after he lost the one he believes will forever be the love of his life. 

 

Losing Lu Han has put an end to Minseok's will to move on with his life, to develop himself, to chase a purpose and to pursue his hobbies and dreams. It's just emptiness all around. White noise, strangers. Nothing really matters anymore without Han. And rightfully so ㅡ Han was the light in Minseok's world full of darkness and he has been taken away from him way too soon, way too brutal. And for what?

 

For what reason did Han deserve to get murdered? What did he do that made him truly deserve his throat to get slit? What did he do that made him truly deserve to die at 28? What did he do that made him truly deserve to have his bright smile wiped away from his face forever? Nothing.

 

It is Minseok who was the reason. The person who killed Lu Han realized that by murdering the man himself would not hurt as much as murdering his soulmate. Minseok is very much aware of that and he will never forget. He will never forget how he found his boyfriend lying in a pool of his own hot, sticky blood, fear and anguish recognizable on his face. He will never forget the police's and ambulance's sirens ringing in his ears. He will never forget how he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror stained with blood and for a second he couldn't figure out who it was. He will never forget Han in his casket, looking like a wax figure ㅡ beautiful, yet cold. But most importantly... He will never forget how the murderer has never been found. 

 

This haunts him. It makes him lose sleep. If he doesn't keep his mind occupied, memories from that day suffocate, taunt him relentlessly. That is why he alleviates his sorrows with carnal pleasures. Tonight is one of those nights where these needs are more accentuated than ever.

 

Usually, he would search for a decent man or woman in a bar or simply at his go-to hotlines, however he did not have time for that now. Honestly, he didn't care, he told himself that the first prostitute that he'll find by the edge of the road would do. 

 

It doesn't take him long. It's Friday night, about 10 pm. He notices a slender figure nearby, proped against a brick wall, cigarette smoke evaporating around it. 'It will work' he thinks.

 

Coming closer, he can make up the soft features of the man ㅡ boy? He looks pretty young, it makes Minseok wrinkle his nose. He has blonde hair and loose clothes, way too big for his skinny body. The only tight things he's wearing are his ripped jeans. He lazily turns his head towards the older, making sudden eye contact with him. 

 

Minseok cannot lie ㅡ he's handsome, he's interesting. He has something special, unlike the other people he has met. Or laid with for that matter. Not that he cared much about their lives, personalities and looks. If they could make him cum and forget, it was more than enough. But this man... it's almost like he wants to hear his story, not get physical pleasure from him.

 

"Good evening, mister." the boy greets, a sly smile on his face. Minseok tilts his head to the side and returns the smile weakly. The young fellow has very high cheekbones, plump glossy lips encasing slightly crooked teeth, a beauty mark a little bit too proeminent on his left upturned eyebrow and extremely long curled lashes. His hazel eyes seem blured and they are lined by thick, coal-black eyeliner, kind of smudged from either cold, sweat or tears. Or all of the above. 

 

"Are you working now?" the business man asks, scanning him from head to toe, mentally deciding that he is a tad bit too skinny. As the latter fold his arms at his chest, he notices the bulged veins and the purple and yellow scars and bruises on them. 

 

The boy bites his lower lip, smirking lustfully ㅡ a visible fake mask. "What can I do for you?" 

 

"Make me feel good."

 

"Only if you show me your ID. I don't wanna risk anything, y'know." he requests, shrugging his shoulders, the old leather jacket sliding off them slightly, revealing proeminent clavicles with definite red marks.

 

Minseok bursts out in laughter. He used to be told daily that he looks super young for his age. Well, that happened before the murder. Since then, the stress, military training and depression have aged him quite a lot. The latter seems quite serious about his request, though.

 

"Only if you show me yours, as well." the older replies wittily, getting closer to the boy.

 

"Ha." he scoffs. "Bold of you to assume I have such a thing on me. What if the donut eaters find me, huh? I'm 20, you have to take my word for it, mister." 

 

Minseok grins back at him. He wasn't lying. At least that is what his body language is signaling. However, it is hard to figure it out through the way his limbs are shaking. 

 

"What are you staring at? Am I too pretty?" the young man asks sarcastically, tripping a little trying to change his position. 

 

"Very pretty." the business man replies. "And very drugged." 

 

The stupidly fake grin on the latter's face disappears into a frown. He sinks his hands into his pockets, taking out a pack of cigarettes. 

 

"Are you gonna get high as well now?" the older grins mockingly, loving the way he was getting on the boy's nerves.

 

"Listen, mister ㅡ what do y'want from me? Want me to suck your cock? Want to fuck me? Tell me already so I can tell you the price and I can get down to business, 'cause it's cold here and I'm freezin'." the blonde haired finally snaps.

 

"Hmm..." Minseok purses his lips, coming impossibly close to the younger. He realizes he's actually a little bit taller than him, but way more fragile. He grabs his chin with two fingers, harshly. "I'm thinking ... how can I fuck you without getting 3 venereal diseases?" he spits through gritted teeth. He should feel bad for insulting the boy like that, yet he doesn't. It gets him off. 

 

"Ay, mister... I am clean..." he responds, his cheeks heating up from anger, but his eyes look sadder. 

 

"I don't believe you." Minseok lies. He actually does believe the young boy. There's something about him that tells him he doesn't lie. "Listen, here's what we're gonna do ㅡ I'll take you to a motel, I give you money and we just talk. Nothing more." 

 

The latter's eyes widen and his mouth parts in shock. "What the fuck? Are you some kind of psychopath? Are you going to kill me?" he asks frantically.

 

"Maybe I am, you can never know." the older grins widely. 

 

Those blurry hazel eyes look up and down his body. 

 

"So?"

 

Silence.

 

"I guess I'll find someonㅡ"

 

"Okay. Fine." 

 

Minseok's eyebrows arch in surprise. "Let's go then ....?"

 

"...Jongdae." the younger sulkens after revealing his name and something tells the business man that it wasn't just a nickname he is using for his 'job'. It's his actual real name and he made a mistake by saying it outloud.

 

"Your name is beautiful. I'm Minseok." 

 

Jongdae smiles sincerely. For the first time that night.

 

 

 

 

Arriving at the motel, they don't expect anything spectacular ㅡ an old room, looking kind of tattered, dim lights from a failing power system. Instinctively, Jongdae lays on the bed, elongating his limbs, and sighing contentedly. Minseok wonders how often does the boy get the opportunity to put his head on a pillow peacefully without having to satisfy another's needs. 

 

"Do you wanna sleep?" 

 

"Are you sure you don't want me, mister?" Jongdae answers, revealing his 'professional' side once again, crawling on all fours towards Minseok. The older watches him silently, looking down at those fragile arms, bony chest. He feels pitiful for him. He cannot understand how people could take pleasure in fucking such a visibly destoryed person.

 

"I am sure. I don't want to wreck you more than you already are. How do you keep up with what you do?" Minseok sits down on the edge of the bed, taking off his coat. Jongdae drops his act once again, looking more miserable than ever. He sits next to him.

 

"Ain't you figured it out yet, mister?"

 

"So what do you take?" Minseok leans back on his elbows. Jongdae doesn't bother to turn his head.

 

"Meth, heroin... depends what I can find that day." 

 

"Why?" 

 

Suddenly, the younger turns around and pounces on the older, startling him. He tangles his stubby fingers in the belt of Minseok's trousers. He doesn't protest. He just sits there watching the prostitute doing what he knows best. 

 

Jongdae unzips the pants, dragging them down to the man's knees, then presses delicately on his underwear, feeling his soft member through the fabric. All his movements seem robotic, monotone ㅡ this is routine for him. Ultimately, Minseok understands that this is his coping mechanism, his weapon that keeps both of their mouths either closed or busy.

 

Taking out his member, Jongdae seems hazy, like he isn't fully there. He closes his eyes, wrapping his dainty hands at the base of Minseok's thick cock. He didn't expect it to look like that, not by the soft, childish features of the man. But it... it looks and feels good. He finds it hard to get him hard and he knows this is happening on purpose, because Minseok's aim isn't to get himself off... or... he doesn't even know what the older wants from him. He opens his rosy lips and sucks slightly on the tip of the man's cock, eventually licking along the shaft as he gradually gets hard. 

 

"I thought I told you something..." Minseok says, his lips opening up unconsciously as he tries to block a low moan. As much as he tries, he cannot fight his body. Jongdae starts sucking harder as he bobs his head down on the shaft, his dirty blonde hair falling into his eyes. 

 

Minseok is more mesmerized by the young boy, rather than aroused. There's something about the way he's doing his job ㅡ he seems familiar. And it's scary to him. Ever since the first moment they made eye contact, the older felt entranced by the expressiveness of those powerful hazel orbs ㅡ they hold so much pain and so many stories ㅡ and he wants to know all about them.

 

Naturally, his hand runs through those golden locks, gripping softly at them. Jongdae thinks it feels weird ㅡ the grip. It is usually hard, painful. But Minseok's grip ㅡ it's encouraging, delicate. He goes even deeper, feeling the tip of the man's cock reach his throat and through the faint white noise in his ears, he hears him groan quietly. He realizes he is close. 

 

"Where?" Minseok asks, a bead of sweat running down his pale skin.

 

"Hand." Jongdae draws back, exchanging his mouth for his surprisingly cushioned palm. 

 

Minseok comes shortly after and in an instant, Jongdae is back with his hand clean and he is tucking him back in his clothes.

 

"You're good at this." he compliments the boy.

 

"I know. It's my job." he smiles weakly, then proceeds to go on the balcony as Minseok watches him bewitched.

 

He watches the way the faint lights from the moon hit his features, the way he leans forward on the railing, taking out a cigarette and placing it between his lips. Minseok follows his movements subconsciously, almost like the younger cast a spell on him. 

 

"Got a flame?" Jongdae asks, not bothering to look up at the older.

 

"A couple of them." 

 

The boy chuckles. "Cheesy." 

 

Minseok returns a crooked grin. A comfortable silence falls between them, as the older takes out a cigarette for himself and lights it before handing the lighter to the younger. He looks at it, examining it thoroughly like it is a fine piece of art. The man notices.

 

"You can keep it." he adds, taking a long drag out of his cigarette.

 

Jongdae looks up at him shyly, a confused gleam in his eyes and a slight rosiness on his cheeks.

 

"Thanks, Minseok."

 

It's the first time he calls the man by his name.

 

"I was staring at it, because I like the colour."

 

It is a pale blue. It's Minseok's favourite colour ㅡ lucky as he deems it. 

 

"Blue is my lucky colour." he claims, watching the way Jongdae's fingers fidget with the lighter. 

 

The younger nods absently. "Because I lost everything, by the way." the blonde bursts out, unexpectedly, startling the older. "To answer your question."

 

Minseok looks at him with the hopes of getting the chance to see his eyes, as they were pinned to the empty highway far in the distance. Something feels uncomfortable in his chest. 

 

"Fair enough." he responds. "I guess we all have different methods of coping with losing everything ㅡ you drugs, me sex..." 

 

Jongdae side eyes him, his face unmoving other than his lips that have the half-burnt cigarette stuck between them.

 

"I guess we really aren't that different, hm?" Minseok smiles reassuringly.

 

The prostitute scoffs and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "I guess we aren't that different..." he repeats mockingly. "You're not a poor abused piece of trash. A druggie. An ugly piece of shit."

 

"You're not even half ugly... I would have never thought that druggies could look so dainty..." the business man comments, with a vile grin on his face, waiting for an offended reaction from the young harlot. "Actually... looking at you more attentively you..." he tilts his head to the side and his heart feels like it has been pierced by a million needles.

 

The side profile of the boy with incredibly soft and pale skin, pupils blown by fatigue, dirty blonde hair falling into his eyes, smoke emanating from his chapped red lips and veiling his sharp features ... brought back pain, suffering, anguish ... brought him back. All Minseok has ever loved and cared for.

 

"You..." he repeats sedately, his whole inner-being morphing right then and there.

 

"Druggies like me are better off dead and buried 6 feet under, mister. I am not worth anything. A waste of space." Jongdae responds, a smile way too serene plastered on his figure.

 

Minseok understands. He understands what the Universe is showing him. What a superior force from above is trying to signal. A purpose.

 

"Let me show you the contrary, Jongdae. You are worth this fight."

 

The boy's eyes shoot wide opened and his mouth falls agape. "How...I..?"

 

"You remind me of someone I couldn't save before." Minseok proclaims, his chest tightening.

 

"And you think you can save me? A nobody? For what and from what?" Jongdae spits through gritted teeth, his eyebrows furrowed, raising his voice. "Who do you think you are?"

 

Minseok is observing him calmly. 

 

"Time's over. I'm leaving." the boy announces, fastly proceeding to grab his jacket.

 

"Money's on the table. Don't buy meth with them, please." 

 

"No need for your dirty money. Consider it my treat, idiot." Jongdae smiles bitterly, before slamming the door behind him.

 

Gone. Minseok sighs deeply, going back to the edge of the bed and sitting down, his hands covering his face. 

 

"Too familiar. Way too familiar." he says quietly to himself.

 

He remembers his last conversation with Han. And that it ended exactly the same way.

 

Except he was the one storming out, slamming the door. Coming back and finding him alive no more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ______________________________________
> 
> Hello! Thank you for reading. I have taken a different approach this time. I hope it won't be too triggering. I hope you enjoyed it (as much as you could enjoy such a topic.) Please look forward for more.


	2. Chapter 2

Young lioness, love   
Leaped in front of me.   
It has ambushed me in a tense wait, after long.  
Its white fangs sunk into my face,  
It bit me, love, today.

 

 

 

(***)

 

"You're not even half ugly... I would have never thought that druggies could look so dainty..." the business man comments, with a vile grin on his face, waiting for an offended reaction from the young harlot. "Actually... looking at you more attentively you..." he tilts his head to the side and his heart feels like it has been pierced by a million needles.

 

The side profile of the boy with incredibly soft and pale skin, pupils blown by fatigue, dirty blonde hair falling into his eyes, smoke emanating from his chapped red lips and veiling his sharp features ... brought back pain, suffering, anguish ... brought him back. All Minseok has ever loved and cared for.

 

"You..." he repeats sedately, his whole inner-being morphing right then and there.

 

"Druggies like me are better off dead and buried 6 feet under, mister. I am not worth anything. A waste of space." Jongdae responds, a smile way too serene plastered on his figure.

 

Minseok understands. He understands what the Universe is showing him. What a superior force from above is trying to signal. A purpose.

 

"Let me show you the contrary, Jongdae. You are worth this fight."


End file.
